


trust what you see

by onigirikita



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26727223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onigirikita/pseuds/onigirikita
Summary: Of late night onigiri making, surprisingly clean procedures, and trust.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 128





	trust what you see

**Author's Note:**

> **Trigger Warning** : Food
> 
>  **Cross-posted on Twitter** : https://twitter.com/onigirikita/status/1301123629015392257

“You know that I don’t eat onigiri that is prepared by someone else’s hands, Miya,” Sakusa said, yet his voice was soft, only holding a pinch of exasperation that wouldn’t stop the blond setter’s movements. Atsumu hummed in reply, too focused on sprinkling salt onto the fresh rice. “Then, why are you still making it?”

The kitchen grew silent as Atsumu continued to focus, forming the rice into small triangles with his bare hands. Sakusa stood idly beside the fridge, hands clasped together and face scrunched in distaste. His gaze flickered from Atsumu, then to the surprisingly clean communal kitchen of their dorm, and then back to Atsumu, before he took all of his little details in: the way that the yellow kitchen light softened his features, the concentration that he reserved to make this dish, the furrow of his eyebrows, the gentle bite of teeth against his lower lip, and the carefulness in his touch. The way that Atsumu made it was so convincingly professional, Sakusa would have thought that it was Osamu who stood in their kitchen, if not for his ridiculous dye job.

Sakusa’s mind drifted away when Atsumu began to put umeboshi into his first onigiri. This situation, and the question that Sakusa asked, could easily represent the confusion that he felt about Atsumu and their relationship. 

Atsumu knew, even from their high school days, that Sakusa was a difficult person to deal with. He avoided germs like the plague, can barely stand going out without his mask, doesn’t tolerate prolonged touches from other humans, and he can be _very_ blunt, which was the main reason that drove a lot of people away from him. Other than his family, Komori, Ushijima, and Iizuna, Sakusa was sure that his teammates, and everyone else, talked to him only because they _needed_ to, not because they _wanted_ to.

Yet, Sakusa couldn’t help but wonder why Atsumu always seemed to _want_ to be around him. Why did Atsumu always insist on walking with Sakusa to and from practice? Why did Atsumu carry wet wipes and hand sanitizers, when he never carried it before? Why did Atsumu always accompany him on nights when he couldn’t sleep, like now? Why did Atsumu wash his hands thrice, until they were scrubbed squeaky clean before, he touched the rice that he was currently shaping?

Why was Atsumu always by his side and always putting effort to respect Sakusa’s tedious boundaries?

“You saw me wash my hands thrice for more than 20 seconds each, right?” Atsumu suddenly asked, breaking the silence between them. 

By the time that Sakusa glanced up to reply, his eyes were met with a tenderness that wasn’t usually found in Atsumu’s dark brown eyes, and for a moment, Sakusa didn't know how to respond. His smile, only holding genuine warmth in them, was enough to make Sakusa’s heart skip a beat. A treacherous part of Sakusa thought he was _angelic_ – his gentle face openly waiting for his reaction, golden locks framed with a hint of a halo on top. 

“You also saw me wash the rice until most of the starch is gone too, right? And how I’m using _your_ stock of umeboshi, and not the team’s stock, because they could have been touched by anyone else other than your clean hands? And how I’m using a clean plate to serve this?”

A plain white plate slid across the pantry, with one piece of umeboshi onigiri on top of it. The onigiri was a little bit wonky, unlike the perfectly-shaped ones that Osamu could make, but the intention to make them was all the same: to make whoever that ate it _happy_. Atsumu was washing his hands again, for the _fourth_ time, when he looked up from the sink to say this, “Then trust me and eat it, Omi-kun. I swear it’s made as clean as I could, and it tastes just as good as ‘Samu’s.”

 _Trust_. Perhaps that was one clue about why Atsumu was doing all this.

Content with his new-found answer, Sakusa chuckled, soft and easy. His hands gingerly picked the onigiri and he took a careful bite from it, lips twitching into a small smile as he chewed. Even though it wasn’t as good as Atsumu claimed it to be, the care and effort put into it were shown, and Sakusa was content with that, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this far, and I hope you like it! Kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> Come talk to me on **Twitter** : @onigirikita


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